Hermione's Inner Commentary
by Hermy Puckle
Summary: COMPLETE! We all have that voice that tells what to do and what not to do. Well, Hermione's voice is kind of mean. It takes over and makes a wager with Snape that she is sure to lose. another fic I dug out of my notebooks!
1. Arguements and Potatoes

**Disclaimer: The following characters are probably JKR's. Unless they look suspiciously like something not of her books, then they are mine. **

**Bugger, what am I rambling about? **

**Just ignore me and read :)

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**16 November**

**Breakfast **

Why can't I be normal? _Why_ must I go doing things I will regret? Whywhywhy, Hermione-in-the-future (as I plan to look back at this later with wise eyes. I have read that if you recount things in present tense, as if it's happening at the moment, you remember things clearly), am I so spineless to let my own mind walk all over to me?

It all started this morning. Before breakfast, Minerva—remember her?—asked me to check on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and report back to her how they are doing.

'Our team is doing well,' I tell her. I know, don't fall over from all the details and imagery.

It was at breakfast and she raises her eyebrows over her tea. After a very noisy sip, she asks, 'Who are our strong players?'

'Edna Brynes and Sylvia Patterson.'

Her eyes go huge. 'The new ones? The second years?'

I nod. 'The very ones. I saw Slytherin but they don't stand a chance.'

_Really?_' a voice that is undeniably _not_ Minerva's asks sardonically.

Ok, even though I recognised his voice, and would anywhere, it still doesn't keep me from leaping out of my skin, nearly knocking over my cup of tea.

I turn to see Snape taking a seat next to me, smirking arrogantly.

Let me point out that up until this time, Snape hasn't said more than seven words to me since I took over for the _now_ late Professor Binns. And those words?

'Teaching isn't as easy as you think.' This is what he said my first day.

There is a reason it's always Minerva and not Snape greeting the first years.

So, needless to say, I am quite taken aback that he is now talking to me. However, my mouth still seems to be able to function through the shock.

'Oh?'

_That was smooth…_ comes my inner voice, just on time. Unlike most people, I tend to have a bit of inner commentary. I mean, she never shuts up. Always puts in her two Knuts. Sometimes, she takes control over my mouth and says things. When I am blurting out facts, that's her.

Snape nods crisply. 'Alas, Miss Granger, I too looked in on the practices. And while I will admit Gryffindor has picked up its speed and your chasers are fair, the rest of the lot is… mediocre.'

'Mediocre?' demands a voice. 'Your house is as slow as trolls!'

Wait.

That's _me!_

I am _not_ talking to Snape like this!

_Yes, you are…_ mocks my inner voice.

YOU! You shut up _this_ instant!

_Silly, I am_ you. _You are obviously mad to be talking to yourself like this._

I am not mad! You just need to keep your trap shut!

_And you need to pay attention to what Snape is saying. Unless you want to look like an idiot._

I listen to her, only to not look like a prat.

'… And your Seeker has the reflexes of Hagrid over there,' Snape sneers, jerking his head in the half-giant's direction.

Hagrid accidentally crushes a mug in his oversized hands. 'Woops,' he says, turning cherry-red. 'Don' know me own stren'.'

I turn my attention back to Snape. He is using those dark, dark eyes to search mine, obviously for reference to my embarrassment or fury. Ok, I am mad at him for insulting my friend, but I won't say anything.

'Did we watch the same team practice?' I hear myself ask, my mouth clearly betraying me.

I _said_ I wasn't going to say anything!

You _didn't say a word; I did!_

Maybe I am schizophrenic. Maybe this voice is just me going mad. Yet, she's been there my entire life. I was never called mad.

Well, Ron did a few times, but that was because I liked to study.

Snape's eyebrows shoot up. 'We were; I assure you. And your team doesn't stand a chance.'

'Really?' comes my voice, the tone a clear indication that my IC was up to something. And I have a feeling I know what it was.

Oh, Merlin…

'Yes,' Snape replies cockily, having no idea what is brewing in my mind. 'Miss Granger, really.'

I feel my lips curve into a smirk. 'Would you care to make a wager on that?'

Nonononono_no_!

There is no doubt that he is clearly amused as he cocks one eyebrow and drawls, 'Haven't you been taught what happens when you bet a Slytherin?'

Yes! Yes, we have, and do you know what happens? We _lose_ if we bet a Slytherin. Want to know why? _Because a Slytherin never moves into a wager, they could possibly lose!_

_Oh, sod off._

I can't believe I have just been told to sod off by my own mind!

Oh, wait, yes I can. She is quite abusive.

'I am a grown women, Professor.' 'I' inform Snape.

'So I've noticed.'

Hm. Maybe he has a traitorous mind as well.

I feel myself lean toward him. 'If Gryffindor wins, you have to give our house fifty points.'

'Fifty,' he repeats flatly, his eyes glinting.

'To one student, in front of others, _many_ others. You can't remove extra points from them later. _Nor_ can you award your house more points to make up for it.'

Acknowledges Snape: 'You seem to have thought of everything.'

My IC responds, 'I know how Slytherins are able to slither out of things. I am not thick.'

I would disagree.

He puts a long finger on his eyebrow in thought. After a moment's speculation, he finally says, 'Fine. If Gryffindor wins, I will award your house fifty points—'

'In public.'

'In public,' He agrees. 'However, if your house does _not_ win, then you must accompany me to the last dance lesson.'

My hand juts out and he takes it. 'Agreed.'

I should point out here, Hermione (from the future), lest you have forgotten, that Minerva decided that the only explanation for not many teacher's dancing at last year's ball was that the professors didn't know how to dance. So, she set up bimonthly lessons in Hogsmeade.

Though why he wanted that to be part of his wager, I didn't know. And it made me instantly suspicious.

_Don't worry,_ assures my IC. _He can't possibly lose._

Oh? How's that?

_You saw the team! We can't lose. And the only way for Snape to win is if he paid the team to lose, and you know the Gryffindors won't do that._

Ok, she does have a point.

_Of course._

And I would love to see the looks on the students' faces when he gives them the points.

_There you go. I think you owe me an apology. _

**Lunch**

Ok, just because I am trying to document everything for future reference, I must add that the game is today, just after lunch.

Classes have gone amazingly well. I had taught the affects of Magical wars on Muggle ones. Half of the class was awake. Which is a very large improvement from Professor Binns class.

Now I am seated between WIlhilemina and Prestia. The former is chatting animatedly to me about her recent trip to Ireland, where she encountered an actual leprocan.

'Little fellow was so cunning.' She takes an overly large bite of her pasta. 'As soon as I glanced away, he was gone! That's the thing with them. Rich things, a crossbreed of goblins and magical people.'

_Ugh. I could have lived without knowing that._

That makes two of us.

Wilhilenina continues describing her new friend, whom was named Trevor. And then something odd happened.

Mashed Potatoes smack me lcear in the face. Just like that. All of a sudden, all I see is offwhite. And tried to inhale.

Memo to future self: don't inhale mashed potatoes as this is _very_ painful. Even in the future, I am certain this memory has not escaped you. Unless you have blocked out it as the whole thing was tramatic. This is probably for the best.

Anyway, I just wiped it off with my hand (_Gluck!_ It goes onto my plate.) and look around for the cause. Because even at a magical place such as Hogwarts, vegetables don't fly around randomly.

'_Peeves!_' shouts an angry voice next to me. Actually both voices on either side of me shout it.

I look up to see the offending poltiergiest floating over head, a glob of food hidden behind his back. It _really_ isn't hidden since I can see through him. But I digress…

He cackles. 'Aw, does Hermy have a messy face?' He flies toward me. 'Let Peevesies wipe it off for you.'

I shove his hand away (I trust in the future I haven't forgotten that poltiergiests aren't like normal ghosts and have matter). 'Peeves, go away!'

This only causes me to inhale more potatoes.

Owwww…

While I am having a sneezing and coughing fit, Snape summons the Bloody Baron who then chases Peeves away.

Thank Merlin.

I am wiping off my face when I hear chuckling. About four people down, Snape has his hand over his mouth. You wouldn't know it was him except for the crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

Both my IC and I shoot him out worse glowering before returning to the food.

Gryffindor had _better_ win.

_Amen, Sister!

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_A/N: Well, I was reading Commentarius by BC Daily and a plot bunny began mating with an old plotbunny that has since been worn. Well, I dug a story out of my old notebook (And it took a while to dig! There are over fifty notebooks full of fanfics laying around!) and typed it up in diary format._

_This was actually written preHBP so excuse it if there are continuity errors with it. It's a mad little thing, and the voice thing is sadly, what I go through. No, neither me nor Hermione are schizophrenic. It's just, we both have a very abusive voice in our heads._

_Yeah, Hermy, NOW you have convinced them that you are sane. _

_See? There it is!_

_Well, sorry this A/N is so long but the story is probably going to be three chappies long. I welcome reviews!_


	2. Betting is a Quidditch Pitch, isn't it

Disclaimer: Hey, JKR, I am just borrowing them for a while, ok? I will return all your characters, promise!

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**16 November**

**Quidditch Pitch **

**1.26 PM**

**Ok, Hermione, so here is how the game went. **

I arrive a bit early, hoping to catch a few more chapters of my recent novel, _Commentarius_ by BC Daily. Let the record show that it is bitterly cold out, the wind tearing through my skin. Also, let the record show that I don't notice that someone _else_ had the same idea as me until after I have been reading a few minutes and he clears his throat.

By now, I am certain we both know who 'he' is.

Professor Snape nearly frightens the fecal matter out of me, as I am not expecting someone to speak from behind me. And it is through some sheer agility, and perhaps wandless magic, that I am able to catch my novel before it flies over the edge.

I look behind me to see Snape with a leather-bound volume in his hand, lying open in his palm like a wilted bird.

Poetic, I know. Maybe I am a poet in the future?

'Miss Granger,' he says calmly, having not had a recent stroke.

'Professor!' I exclaim, masking my shock phenomenally. 'What are you doing out here?'

_Hmm… Hermione, let's think about this… He has an open book in his hand and was recently looking down at it. Any guesses on what he could be doing?_

Damn. I thought she'd be quiet.

_Whatever led you to that conclusion?_

I decide to ignore her, as she is me. Thus, I am ignoring myself?

Ron's right; I _do_ think too much.

Anyway, I reiterate. 'I hadn't thought you left your dungeon for other than feeding on livestock?'

Ok, for the record, I _know_ that he isn't a vampire as vampires cannot do magic. And I know that I am using a cliché.

And unfortunately, so does Snape.

'How original,' drawls he, smirking condescendingly (Hm. The poetry thing is coming back). 'Calling me a vampire. Miss Granger, you disappoint me.'

_Me too._

No one was talking to _you_!

Suddenly, the rest of the school begins filing in, along with the staff and the teams, zooming around the pitch like flies around one's head.

The grin Minerva flashes me was highly suspect. She looks like the cat who'd just cornered a mouse.

Now, the tower that the teachers sit at isn't and has only one staircase. So everyone files up through the same way. This causes traffic jams and when they pop out of the same door, they have to squish their ways to their seats. Well, I stupidly am sitting by it. To avoid trampling, I move to where Snape is sitting, in the back.

He gives me a 'what do you think you are doing?' glare. I ignore it.

As people pile in, the increasing density forces me to scoot closer and closer to my professor. I refuse to look at him to avoid the predictable sneer he must be wearing.

'Are you cold?' he suddenly asks as I focus on one of the Gryffindor chasers. I am pretty sure it's Louise Compton. The yellowish hair is recognisable even from so many metres away.

I look over at Snape. I didn't realise it but he was right; I was shivering. 'No.'

_Oh,_ brilliant _lie, Hermione. Almost as if, he couldn't feel you shaking._

'You _are_ a witch, Miss Granger. You can heat yourself easily.' His eyes glitter as a small smile tugs at his lips. 'Or have you lost your powers? You really don't have to be a witch to teach History of Magic.'

I can actually feel her boiling inside me. I don't even bother to stop her this time.

'And of potions? No silly wand-waving, as you said, Professor.' Wow, if that sneer looks as it feels, then it must be very Snape-esque. _(Thank you.)_ 'You don't need any magic for that. Also, I haven't seen you with any women—Are you certain you aren't a witch instead of a wizard?'

Oh.

Merlin.

I can't believe you just said that! To _Snape_! That was completely uncalled for as well!

_No, he deserved it. I half-think he might have been in on the potatoes thing._

Snape stares at me, not even blinking.

_Though you are right. This couldn't turn out well._

Immediately, as though thinking along the same wavelength, an odd sort of determination settles into Snape's eyes. Slowly, he leans toward me. I would back away but I appear to be stuck in the corner.

_Let's think of this logically._ My inner commentary suggests. _He couldn't possibly hex us with all these witnesses. He would have to wait until we get alone but we are_ never _alone with him, and can easily keep it that way._

His face is right beside my ear.

_Although, he does know a fair amount of poisons and I wouldn't put it past him to dump some into our food._

There, his breath is hot on my neck.

_It would trace back to him. What can we do now? Appologise? No, of course not. That insult wasn't any worse than any he's laid on us, was it? Or Ron and Harry. He's only getting what he's earned. Right, Hermione? Hermione?? **Dammit girl, breathe! Don't forget to breathe!!!**_

Just as I inhale, Snape whispers—

'Careful, Miss Granger.' There's a hoarse layer to his voice, oddly, that sends an icy strike down my spine. His breath now tickles my ear. 'Lest you provoke me into proving you wrong.'

What?

_What??_

He stays in that position for a few seconds, breathing through the smirk I don't have to see. My heartbeat masks the roaring stadium as a wave of acid washes over my stomach. Somewhere, I manage to exhale on my own.

Then, Stephen Trabay announced the beginning of the game and thankfully, Snape returned to the upright position.

I am not even able to focus on the game as my mind stumbles to figure out what on earth he meant by that.

_Clearly, he is only trying to frighten you._

But what does he mean by it? What would he do?

Oh, gods!

Flash me!

_Don't' be thick, Hermione! Does Snape really look like a flasher to you?_

What else, then?

_You_ are _daft, aren't you?_

No!

_Kiss you, you dolt!_

No, he wouldn't! That's rubbish out of a bloody romance 'novel'!

I say it in quotes because that really isn't literature.

And another thing! Snape wouldn't come within ten metres of my lips to—

_WATCH OUT!!!!!!!_

Just then, all I saw was a large black ball growing alarmingly large. A bludger was flying straight for me.

This isn't one of those moments where everything happens in slow motion. Nay, it all just happens, not even consecutively either! It all seems to happen at once. So, in no specific order, I will put down what happened.

1. The bludger left a perfectly round gap in the back of the stand right where my head was.

2. I am suddenly on the floor, tucked between people's feet.

3. And someone says 'ow'.

I manage to crawl back up into my seat, watching through the hole, a Slytherin beater hit the bludger back into the game.

'Hermione!' Minerva suddenly appears in my vision, her face taking up my entire view. 'Are you all right, dear?'

I nod. 'It managed to miss me.'

'Too damn bad _I_ wasn't so lucky,' grumbles someone. I look over at Snape to find him holding his shoulder. He grimaces and, with a loud pop, shoves his shoulder back into place with his opposite hand.

_EW._

Agreed!

'Severus?' Minerva's voice is full of worry as she touches Snape's shoulder gingerly. He jerks away from her.

'I will live.'

'You should go see Poppy,' suggests the headmistress, her hand now on her chest, as if to try to slow down the beating of her heart.

Snape all but snarls, 'I am _fine_. I have no need to see that quack. If need be, I can always whip up a pain-reducing potion.'

I look over at his arm. Regardless of his words, he is still holding his shoulder rigidly, stiffly. I tell him something my inner voice has plucked out of my memory. 'It could have fractured your shoulder. Even hairline fractures can be fatal if gone untreated. You should see Madame Pomphrey anyway.'

'Fine,' he snaps, though stares at his knees. 'But not until after the game, ok? Now go back to your seat and leave us alone.'

What a git, to be so rude to us! Minerva glares but returns to the front nonetheless. I stand up.

'Where are you going?' He asks, as if he clearly has no idea.

'Leaving you alone, as asked.' I try to step between Filius and Rubeus, but Snape stops me again.

'No.' He replies, an odd insistence in his voice. A quiet insistence that for some reason grinds my bone. 'I want you next to me when you lose.'

Only because there is no way for me to get another seat—the stands are pretty packed—I resume my seat and watch the game.

Halfway through, I take out my novel and continue reading. The score climbs and climbs, on Slytherin's side at least. How in Merlin's name did they get so poor? The Gryffindor Keeper is missing balls she could clearly have caught and the Chasers seem to have gotten a massive drag on their tails. I have lost and am women enough to admit defeat at this point.

However, I cannot ignore it when Trabay's voice shrieks through the stadium. 'The Seekers have spotted the Snitch! Sylvia Patterson of Gryffindor and Zelda Rimmings are now in nosedive after the Snitch. Merlin's bleeding knickers!—that's quite disgusting actually—they have disappeared into the forbidden forest! That ruddy ball is giving the maker's of those brooms runs for their money! Oh look! Here they are again!' The two chasers reappear and begin zigzag all over the Pitch. Then—

'Patterson has caught the Snitch! This brings the score 575 to 575! A tie! What an exciting game, mates. However, a rematch will have to happen next week.'

Damn. A tie.

I turn to Snape as everyone starts shuffling to their feet. 'Well, too bad you won't be giving Gryffindor those points. I would pay to see the looks on everyone's faces. But because of the tie, neither of us wins. Good show anyway.' I stick out my hand for him to shake.

He grabs my hand, his skin rough against my flesh. He only holds it as he says, 'I fear you are mistaken, Miss Granger; I still win. You still have to dance with me.'

'What?' I ask stupidly. 'No, I don't. See, the team tied. The deal was—'

'_The deal was_,' interjects Snape. 'If Gryffindor won, I would award those points. If the team didn't, you would dance with me. Gryffindor didn't win.'

'No, but…' I trail off, remembering the exact words. _If Gryffindor doesn't win…_ 'You tricked me!'

He gestures for me to walk down the stairs ahead of him. I don't move.

'No, Professor! You _cheated_! How dare you! You intentionally worded it that way so that you got the better end of the deal.'

He doesn't anger at this. In fact, he snorts. 'I _am_ a Slytherin, remember. However, I did no such cheating. I warned you repeatedly, I gave you time to change your mind. You did not. Sorry, Miss Granger, this is all your fault.'

_Yes, it is._

No. NO! It's YOUR fault! YOU are the one that didn't shut up! You are the one that made the bet! Why did you have to get us into this mess?

'Until tomorrow,' Snape says with a mock bow and exits down the stairs, leaving me alone.

I stand there, in the chilly wind, arguing with myself for who knows how long. Until that is myself comes up with an idea.

_When you can't fight them, go to the authorities.

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**Headmistresses Office**

**5.42 PM (Yes, long game)**

I stride into Minerva's office unannounced.

'He cheated!' I shriek, feeling all the frustration pour out of me.

She doesn't even look up from her paperwork. 'I told you long ago not to make bets with him.' I could have sworn I hear a singsongy note to her voice! 'You are going to have trouble meeting his eyes for awhile.'

'But, you got to make him…'

She does look at me now. 'Make him what, Hermione? Make him drop the bet? It's not as though he's making you do anything horrid; it's just a bit of dancing.'

'No!' ok, I know that I am whining but at this point, I am past caring. 'You don't understand, do you? He's _Snape_! Plotting, scheming, that's him! I bet there's some hidden agenda to this. He's going to use this to mortify me, or degrade me in some sort.'

'Hermione.' Minerva stands up, rising tall and elegant as she looks at me as though I am the maddest person to walk through Hogwarts' halls. 'Severus is forty-two years old. I hardly think he is playing games.'

'But…' I am gob smacked. Even my IC is speechless, which is rarer than a five-leaf clover.

'Now, if you are so worried, I am certain Severus is will be out of the infirmary shortly and you can talk to him about it. Or better yet, don't let him know it doesn't bother you. Be the adult here!'

Ok, I will just avoid him until tomorrow and then, act as though I do not loathe his every molecule.

In Front of Potion's Classroom

Twenty minutes later

What, in Merlin's name, am I doing here? I don't even remember coming here and suddenly, it's as though I've Apparated. Or _someone's_ Apparated me.

_Don't look at me!_

I knock on the door, whether I like it or not.

No answer. I knock again. Nothing. I knock a third time.

Ok, so he isn't in his classroom. Perhaps in his quarters?

I ease the heavy door open and slide in. The room is completely dark and it's only by clear memory of the layout of the room that I am able to feel my way to the hidden passageway that leads to the door to Snape's quarters. Once there, I rap on the door, still against my own will.

For a minute or so, no one comes and my heart surges with hope that he isn't in.

It pops when he opens the door.

And completely dies at the sight of him.

For Snape is in nothing but his trousers.

Well, if only I had known he looked like a Greek god from the neck down, with those thin, lean, I-can-barely-resist-reaching-out-to-run-my-hands-all-over-him, muscles, and then I might not be simply staring at him. I might be able to from a response. Instead of flushing at the sudden image of him pressing me against a wall that should have upset my stomach but instead, sends a jolt from head to toe.

And then another shock hits me:

Snape is _blushing_, and shifting his weight from leg to leg. He's uncomfortable!

_Well, why_ wouldn't _he be? Who wants to be scrutinized like that?_

'May I help you, Miss Granger?' Snape asks, his voice impatient.

I have to say something? What should I say?

I pluck up the first thing in my mind. 'I, er… cat.'

'What.'

My IC and I both scramble to pick up a good response. 'My… cat—Crookshanks—has… b—bad hairballs?' Wow. That actually wasn't bad! 'D—do you ha—ave a potion for him?'

'Wouldn't Rubeus me more adept at handling this?' He asks skeptically, narrowing his eyes at me.

'I did. He told me to come to you.'

Snape drops his weight against the doorframe, drawing my attention once again to his muscles.

_STOP BLUSHING!!!_

'I don't believe you.'

'What?' My voice has gone a few octaves higher than normal. I try, and fail, to lower it back to regular level. 'I am telling the truth!'

'No, Miss Granger, you are sweating in the three stress spots and your face is scarlet.'

_TOLD you not to blush!_

'Also,' he continues. 'You haven't been looking me in the eye and keep fussing with your hair.'

As I drop the curl immediately, something hits me.

_Oh, Merlin!_

The reason Snape is annoyed, more so, at my presence, and uncomfortable at my seeing him so unclothed, and the complete reason for him _being_ half-naked…

_There's a woman in there! Snape is being… intimate with some slag! And we interrupted it!_

And for some reason, I don't like the though of that.

'Never mind,' I hear myself growl. 'I will leave you…' I almost said, 'you two to your business' but the words managed not to escape.

'You wanted to ask me why I wanted you to dance with me?' His voice keeps me from turning around and leaving.

Maybe that was the reason. It would completely go against my act-as-if-it-doesn't-bother-you act. However…

'Yes.'

'And?' He presses.

'…And that's it.' IS there suppose to be more?

He smirks. Very self-centrally, he states matter-of-factly, 'You wanted to know if you interrupted anything.'

'I was going to ask that to be polite, yes,' I state coolly, even though I am now the colour of a tree of ripe tomatoes.

He steps back, holding the door open with his body. As I step past him (ignoring my pounding heart at the closeness), he explains, 'I was about to take a shower.'

_But with whom?_ I wonder.

I follow him calmly into a room and stop when I realise which one I am in.

His bedroom.

I have been in boy's bedrooms before but this one was different.

'It's empty,' I breathe, half in relief, half in surprise.

Of course it is, he sneers, his clear, pale back to me. 'Who'd y—' He stops and turns around so quickly that I nearly bump into him. There is a broad arrogant grin on his lips.

_Uh oh…_

He takes a step toward me, filling in the space between us. 'You thought I had a girlfriend in here, didn't you?'

'Pshaw!' I sniff, as if the mere thought is madness. 'Of course not! I just… thought I had heard footsteps.'

He eyes me in disbelief.

'Aaand, you're changing the subject!' I all but yell. 'Now, I won't take up much of your time.'

'Good.'

Without invitation, I take a seat at the end of his bed, the only seat in the room. 'I wish to know why your end of the bet included me dancing with you instead of giving Slytherin points or something.'

He shrugs. 'To be honest, I saw it as a chance to not have to dance with that blasted Trelawney again.' It is amazing how, throughout this entire sentence, he makes me feel daft for not having realise this.

'Why didn't you just ask me nicely?' I want to know.

'You would have been far too suspicious to agree.'

'Well, now I am forced to anyway because you cheated!' I snap, or my IC does, I am not certain which. The anger is half-forced as my mind is distracted the affect the deep breath he just took had on his chest.

'I didn't cheat, Miss Granger; do not accuse me of crimes I did not commit.'

'Didn't commit? _Didn't commit?_' I mimic lividly, my head pounding furiously. 'What do you call tricking me into losing the bet on a tie!?'

He walks over me and stands so that his legs are on each side of my thighs, straddling me, virtually. Then he uncrosses his arms and places a hand on each side of my bum on the bed, his thumbs just barely brushing my hips, sending sparks from those areas. As if his voice has gone unused for quite some time, it cracks and breaks as he says, huskily, 'I didn't trick you into anything, Miss Granger.' He leans closer so that I have to slightly cross my eyes to look into his. 'It is entirely on you that you don't listen very carefully. It isn't trickery on my part but ignorance on yours.'

'You…' That's not me speaking! Guess who it is? 'Self-centred jerk!' I hear myself growl into his face.

His reply is quite soft and I nearly have to read his lips, which I can't seem to stop staring at. 'Et tu?'

'I am not a jerk!' I argue defensively. Or at least, my IC does. _I_ just look up at him. 'Or self-centred!'

'No,' he admits, clearly not uncomfortable as I am with the current position of our bodies. 'Not openly, such as myself. It is quite obvious that you value your career and education above all else.'

Now I too am yelling. 'That is not so! I wouldn't hesitate to put my career on hold for friends or family!'

Counters he: 'Ah, but you would worry about all the work you could be getting done the whole time.'

'Because you know me so well,' I snap sarcastically.

'You are easy to read.'

'Legilimency is cheating.' I sit up straight to assert my defiance.

He brings his face closer, so that he is only a good four hairs away. 'None is needed on one so transparent.' It comes out in a whisper that is hot on my face. He stares into my eyes. There is only one word to describe the look in those dark, intense irises.

_Stormy_.

'I…' He starts.

'Sorry, Professor, but they said you might know where Hermi—_oh my_!'

I glance over at the doorway to see Luna standing in the doorway, her hand on her throat, face void of all emotion except shock. She is looking between the both of us with complete confusion.

I turn back to see that Snape is suddenly five feet away from me, as if I suddenly turned into a very poisonous tarantula. He is also glaring at Luna with more loathing than I have seen in anyone person, save Harry.

I stand up and adjust my skirt, my breath coming in quick gasps. My voice sounds unlike my own as I walk over to the blonde. 'Luna! What brings you here?'

Still looking at Snape, she replies, 'I, er, oh. I was… in the neighbourhood and thought, I would knock you up for a bit. Er… Professor McGonagall thought Snape might know where you were.'

A cackle escapes my throat. I don't know why, as nothing is funny. 'Oh, well good to see you.' I turn to Snape who is still trying to turn Luna to stone by glare. 'And…' what to say to him? 'Even though it was unfair, I will still be your dance partner tomorrow.' Then, back to Luna, 'Come. We can have a bit of tea.'

With that, we leave. Thank Merlin she isn't the sort to ask questions.

Because I, for once, don't have any answers.

* * *

A/N: Ok, well, this chappie is nice and long. Sorry about that :) Again, excuse any unfunnyness, as I have been struggling to correct my early crappy stuff.

Oh, and any OOC from anyone aside from Hermione is completely intentional.

Next chappie: The Grande Finale! (Going to be shorter) (Probably) (I think) (Maybe)


	3. Allies and Traitors

Disclaimer: The characters you recognise are JKR's, Warner Bros.', Scholastic's, and a few others. Notice my name isn't in there. So it isn't mine

A/N: WELL, THE THIRD AND FINAL CHAPPIE! Hope you all don't hate it too much!

* * *

17 November

Hogsmeade

The Mind's Wand

-73 minutes, 03 seconds until Dance Lessons

As you can tell, Hermione, my tries to get the Lessons (capitalised for a reason) out of my head are pointless.

I sit in here, in the bookstore reading some book—Sir Reginald's Guide to Occlumency—without actually reading it. Sorry, Reggie, you aren't potent enough to dispel _him_ from my mind.

Bloody Hell!

I mean, what does the git want with me?

_Isn't it obvious?_

Ok, with Snape, the most obvious thing is _never_ what's really there. And besides, there is no chance for Snape to like me! Not like that, especially!

_True._

Thank you

_But do you like_ him?

Ugh! No! Rubbish, of course not!

_Me thinks the lady doth protest too much._

Oh, stop quoting _Hamlet_. Dodgy play, in my opinion.

_Changing the subject?_

No!

_Yes._

But, listen, I mean… Of course, I don't like Snape! The very thought of even _feeling_ that way is repulsive!

_You didn't find his body repulsive, did you?_

You can find someone attractive and not fancy him or her, you know. I mean, there's the fact that he's older…

_Come on. It's not as if you haven't said that a thousand times already._

What?

_Just never you mind._

And then there's the fact that he is everything I hate about a man. I mean, he doesn't give a lick about me; he's insulting; he hates my friends and vice versa; he's got a troublesome past; and… and…

And, _he's intelligent; he's mature; you've known him for a long time; you trust him; he's attractive…_

No! He's Snape! That's disgusting!

I snap the book shut and stand up. Reading isn't working and reading _always_ works. I need something else. Something more stimulating. Something…

'Hermione?' A voice greets oddly close behind me.

I turn around to see a tall, lanky bloke with shaggy hair and a peculiar scar on his forehead.

'Harry!' A sight of sore eyes, to be cliché. I throw my arms around his neck and bury my face into his neck, inhaling the familiar, warm scent. Something homey.

I feel him give me a brief hug back. 'Hey, Herm, you ok?'

I nod. 'Brilliant, Harry. How've you been?'

_Try smiling so you look believable_!

I hope my mouth looked less like a grimace and more like a reassuring smile.

Harry squints his eyes and nods ever so slightly. 'What's wrong.' He doesn't even pose it as a question, but more as a statement. When I don't answer, he folds his arms and regards me with his patented, you-are-full-of-rubbish look.

_Well, there's no fooling him now._

I sigh. 'Fine, Harry. Can we go to a café? I would prefer not to go through this standing up.'

* * *

17 November

Hogsmeade

The Three Broomsticks

-32 minutes 25 seconds until Dance Lessons

I tell him from the beginning but he keeps interrupting.

'So, Snape has never spoken to you before this?' he wants to know.

'Once, and only for some "friendly" advice. Well, he stepped into Minerva's and I conversation by sitting next to me and challenging my opinion of—'

'How _do_ you think the team is doing?'

'They were doing great which makes no sense when I saw them play so badly. I mean they were missing such obvious shots!'

'Do you think Snape might have swung the game on purpose?'

'Harry, the Gryffindors wouldn't have failed on purpose for payment of even threat. You know that!'

'They didn't fail though, they tied.'

'So?'

'Then they could have had a bit of rebellion at the end, in catching the Snitch.'

'But Harry, would you have thrown the game if Snape threatened you?'

'No.'

'See?'

'Maybe he poisoned them. Or jinxed them. We know for a fact that he has the ability to control brooms from the stands.'

'Their brooms looked fine.'

'Then the _Imperious_ curse! He could have been controlling them the whole time. Did you look at him? Was he keeping eye-contact with the members… you know, a bit too close?'

'No, I didn't look at him and even if I did, how could he be able to control _all_ of the team members at once?'

'True. Ok, continue.'

I nod. 'Well, he said, "If Gryffindor wins, I will award the house fifty points but if now, you have to dance with me at the dance lessons." I suppose I should have read more into it.'

'Also, he didn't state in this agreement that he wouldn't award Slytherin extra points, or take any more away from Gryffindor to compensate.'

Ugh. 'You're right.' I groan and press my forehead against the table. 'There was no way for me to win, no matter how the game turned out!'

'That's why you shouldn't—'

'Bet a Slytherin, I know. But what has me so worried is _why_ does he want to dance with me!'

I lift my head up as a waitress comes to refill our cups. Harry thanks her with a nod before returning to the conversation.

'He has got to be planning something.'

'I _know_ but what?'

'Probably something to humiliate you, or get you sacked.'

My heart rushes with ice. 'Sacked?' I repeat quakingly. 'I had never thought of that. I can't go, definitely. I will have to skip the class.'

'But wait. You might get in trouble for not going.'

'I probably would.'

'That could be part of his plan, scare you into not going and then get you in trouble.'

'But Minerva would understand why I didn't go!'

'If she understood enough, she would have told you, you could get out of it when you went to talk to her.'

'Then _what am I going to do???_'

'You have to go. Just be on your guard.'

'I don't even know what to be on my guard _for_! I have no idea what he's going to do.'

Harry takes a sip of his tea before quietly looking up, searching for a solution. 'How about this,' he suggests finally. 'I go with you and stand on the sidelines, wand ready for anything he might try.'

'And we would have two against one!'

'Precisely.'

I nearly reach out and hug him across the table. My heart soars with relief at having an ally in this. Thinking to the future dance lessons, it doesn't look so dangerous and frightening; maybe we will be able to prevent Snape from doing anything.

_See?_ Asks my inner commentary. _Aren't you glad that I suggested you tell Harry the truth?_

I am too happy to argue with her.

* * *

17 November

Hogsmeade

Madame Riliroo's Dance Studio

-4 minutes until Dance Lessons

Well, Hermione, here we are, the moment of truth. Snape isn't here yet but Harry is, standing by the doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket. To anyone, he would appear to be simply leaning against the wall but I know that he is clutching his wand out of view.

We have the most fabulous friends.

Hagrid is talking to me about his upcoming class with the new breed of Skrewts, now bred with tarantulas (!!!) but I can barely concentrate on what he is telling me. Because Harry catches my eye and nods toward the door.

In walks Snape.

I was hoping that I could hide behind Hagrid and Snape would think that I didn't show up and he would leave and not bother me!

_That was a run-on sentence, Hermione!_

Oh, piss off.

Anyway, just as Snape enters, Wilhelmina Grubby-Plank drags her partner, yes, Hagrid, and pulls him away. Snape sees me and grins.

That's when I know that any help from Harry is futile. Snape grinning is usually no good for anyone he is grinning _at_.

He takes a step toward me.

_Hide, Hermione, hiiiiiiiide!_

Where to you propose I hide?

_Behind the curtain!_

I look over at the curtain she is referring to, the one that stretches down to my waist.

_Ok, the curtain is a bad idea. Act as though you don't see him and go to the loo._

And hide in there the rest of the night? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one of the two of us!

_I_ am _the smart one! If you don't want my help, I won't give it!_

I do want your help but I want _good_ advice.

_Ok, then. There's nothing else for us to do._

You're a large help!

_Well? There really isn't anything we could do that would not be completely obvious. We could just walk past him and out but that would be a Gryffindor bowing out and Gryffindors don't do that, remember?_

'Miss Granger.'

My head snaps up to find Severus Snape standing before me, holding out his hand. Around him, I can see Harry moving away from the door and closer to the dance floor.

Snape is looking down at me with amusement, as though I am an acrobatic puppy. I can see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tries to suppress a smile. And one corner is characteristically higher than the other, in a smirk.

_Answer him!_

What?

_He asked you a question!_

'Sorry?' I ask, hoping to not appear like a complete madwoman.

'It's of no importance.'

Just then, a flurry of a woman floats in.

Madame Riliroo is this short, round woman who fancies muumuus of the most garish designs and has wild curly copper hair that puts my frizzy mane to shame. Today's muumuu is bright pink with a large turkey stitched in the centre of her breasts. Her outfit billows behind her as she clasps her hands together, fingers banded by many bawdy jewels. 'Welcome, welcome, welcome! Let's all get with our partners because this is our last class! Hurry, hurry, hurry!' Madame Riliroo always had a habit of stating things in threes and with exclamation points.

Shuffling fills the room as people scoot closer to their dance partners. Even Snape and I do, as if under a charm.

As she talks, Madame Riliroo strides about, examining each couple. Once she lands next to Snape and I, she claps jovially. 'Well, good to see some switcheroo! Madame Riliroo's switcheroo!' She chuckles at her own (not) funny joke.

I hear Snape snort and though I feel the same way, I glare at him.

'Today!' Announces Riliroo beaming around the room at the 'happy' couples. 'Today is a free-for-all. I will put on some music and you and your partner will use one of the ones you learned to dance to it, your choice! And then, and then, and then, I will change up the music!' She looks pleased to bits at herself. 'And you will have to change your dancing! Everyone ready? Ok…' she taps a jukebox with her wand. 'Go, go, go!'

A light, quick rhythm fills the room, the tinkling of instruments oddly loud over the shuffling of feet.

I look up at Snape, suddenly all of the dances I have learnt have escaped my mind. Even my IC shrugs.

Without a word, he grabs both of my hands and takes me into one of the earlier steps we gleant, that involves a lot of air between the partners, for which I am thankful. He spins and twirls me with ease and I can only stumble along after him.

After what seems like hours of this, the music morphs into a slower, more sensual beat, full of violins and harps. Snape tugs lightly on my sleeve.

I know what he's doing, but I play stupid. 'What?'

He says nothing and tugs firmer, pulling me closer. I feel him wrap his arm around the small of my back, pressing me against his body. I awkwardly put the hand he isn't holding on his shoulder.

'So, Miss Granger, I see you have Potter staked out to protect you.'

I nod, not even bothering to argue.

_Relax your body, Hermione! You are making it too obvious that you are nervous!_

I try to ease my muscles but my posture remains stiff and alert. I even shiver, even though I am not cold in the least bit. I don't relax as the music changes from fast to slow to moderate; from jazz to pop to rock to classical.

Finally, Madame Riliroo puts on the last song, an insufferably slow song. Snape once again tugs on my sleeve.

His scent, an oddly clean smell, tickles my nose and I hate it immediately. Not that it is a bad scent, but it is his. I rest my chin on his shoulder so I don't have to look at him. I close my eyes and hope it all ends soon and whatever he is going to do, he does now.

I loathe the feel of his soft shirt under my chin and the contour of his ear which, though non-unique in it's own, still strikes me as ugly. I despise the feeling of his body against mine, how I can feel those blasted muscles under my stomach. Also, I feel someone's heartbeat, probably mine, I realise with a grimace, at the base of my ribcage, in the centre.

I nearly jump when Snape says into my ear, 'I can feel your heartbeat.' The way he says it sounds so… intimate. Like two lovers being one.

My voice wavers all over as my inner-commentary answers for me. 'Oh? I thought that was yours.' A lie, though I _could_ have said that I didn't feel a heartbeat at all.

_Sorry._

I wouldn't have done better.

_I know why you are scared, _she suddenly says.

Because he's going to do something to me and I don't know what to expect?

_Because whatever it is, it's a symbol of how much he doesn't like you._

What are you on about?

_You thought he was going to kiss you earlier._

Erg, no I didn't.

_Yes you did, admit it._

Well, maybe for one split second but that's—

_And you wouldn't have minded if he did._

Rubbish! Can't you just drop this?

_In fact, you wanted him to. You want him to_ now!

I do not!

_That's why you are shaking like a Chihuahua. You are scared of rejection. You_ like _him, don't you?_

No, this is complete bullocks. There's no way I could like him! He cheats, he is rude, he is older…

_Yawn. You said this bit before._

Well, it's to prove I don't fancy him.

_Hermione._

I don't like that condescending tone you are using.

_I am your subconscious, am I not?_

You are.

_So, I would know, better than you, what is going on in your subconscious, would I not?_

You would.

_Clearly, deep down, you really like him, you fancy Severus Snape._

Somewhere, someone exasperatedly shouts, 'Fine!'

Bugger, that was me again.

'I didn't say anything, Miss Granger,' says Snape.

I force myself to pull my head back so I can meet his gaze. 'I, er—was…'

One eyebrow shoots up. 'Talking to yourself?'

'Yes,' I murmur and put my chin back.

_But_ why _do you like him so much?_

You're my subconscious, are you not?

She ignores me.

_What attracts you to him?_

He has a good mind, he's a good, though not _nice_, man; I respect him, I suppose; and yesterday, when he was teasing me, though annoying, he wasn't really being mean to me for the first time, like I won a prize.

I sigh.

Bloody _fucking_ hell, I do like him.

How pathetic.

Then, Madame Riliroo's voice announces that, though we are welcome to dance more, the class is officially over.

It's over! I glance over at Harry but he just looks confused. His lips move as he mouths, _He hasn't done anything._

I nod and step back. 'Well, I suppose I should go. I am getting hungry.'

With a curt, jerk of his chin, Snape agrees. 'I will walk you back.'

Damn. No way to back out now.

We go over to the coat racks, I pull my cloak off the hook, and Snape does the same. Once we step outside, the winds lashes through me and I pull the halves of my cloak together.

The silence we walk in is awkward so I open my mouth to put a stop to it.

'So, what's the catch, Professor?'

'Catch?' He repeats, eyeing me out of his peripherals.

'I know there is some hidden agenda for you making me dance.'

'Ah.' He nods. 'There was.'

I stop in front of Zonko's. 'And what was it?'

He steps closer, so that we are toe to toe. Eyeing me steadily, he says, 'I planned on taking you to my quarters and seducing you into my bed where I would ravish your body until neither of us could move.'

My heart turns into a solid, cold, ball of lead and drops to my feet.

'Y-you did?'

He smirks and lets out a slight chuckle. 'No, but the look on your face was very enjoyable.'

Arsehole.

'Then, what _was_ the catch, Professor?'

'There was none.' He answers simply, resuming the walk.

'You expect me to believe that the only reason behind you dancing with me is to escape Trelawney?'

He nods but doesn't break his contact with the road ahead. 'Yes.'

'Why didn't you ask someone else?' I pluck a name off the top of my head. 'Cynthia Sprout, perhaps.'

His thin lips curl into a sneer. 'She smells like mud.'

'Ok, Madame Pince then?'

'That woman is far too controlling.'

'You don't like a women in control?' I hear myself ask.

What do you think you are doing???

_Well, you like him. So, people flirt with those they fancy._

Nononononono! Only if there is the slight chance of them fancying said people back!

I feel her shrug. Odd thing, feeling your mind shrug. Indescribable.

Snape gives me an odd look. 'I do not mind a women "in control" at all; that's not what I mean. Priscilla… she treats everyone as though we are all toddlers.'

_He's one to talk._

'Madame Pomphrey?'

He scratches his head. 'The woman's far too old.'

'I am not asking you to marry her!'

'Fine, she cannot dance.' He raises his voice. 'And, I cannot stand Wilhelmina; Sinistra is just creepy; Madame Hooch never shuts up about Quidditch; Minerva is too nagging and Thelma has the least talent for dancing I have seen and thus should not where spiked heels.'

'Oh.'

We walk in a pregnant silence until we reach Hogwarts' doors.

_Its over? Nothing's going to happen?_

Then Snape says: 'Maybe I did have a reason besides Sybil.'

I stop and fold my arms. 'Oh?'

_Here it comes…_

'You were also right in my not playing fair.' He takes a deep breath. 'I asked Minerva to bring up the topic of the teams at breakfast for me.'

'Minerva was in on this??' I don't care how shrill I sound. The traitor!

He nods. 'There's more.'

Fantabulous.

'Potter was in on it too.'

'What???'

No!

'Harry?'

'No,' sneers he. 'James Potter.'

I glare.

'No, I had Potter make certain you didn't back out.'

Of _course!_ I thought it was odd that Harry wouldn't let me not go. Usually he would have told me to go hex Snape because he was being unfair.

Another traitor!

'But how…' How on earth did he manage to get Harry to agree?

'I contacted Miss Lovegood—sorry: _Weasely_—a few days ago to help, actually. However, I was not expecting you to show up last night. And when Miss Weasely came by when I asked her to, she had to act like you were the entire reason for her being there. I must say, she covered well with the Minerva-sent-her story.'

_Luna_ was in on this too???

'I didn't think she would be a good person after that because you might have gotten suspicious. She was fine and told Potter my reasoning and he agreed to help.'

Harry, Luna, Minerva… all against me!

'There's more.'

'What, are my parents in on this too?' I snap.

He laughs. 'No, couldn't get in touch with them.'

Wonder if he's joking.

'The Quidditch game was a fluke.'

'Huh?' Smart-sounding, I know.

'There _is_ supposed to be a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor game but it's not for another week. See, Minerva and I worked with the captains of each team to get them to choreograph and entire game.'

Whoa.

This revelation both shocks and scares me. He had so many people in on this.

Wait.

'You've been planning this a while, haven't you?'

He actually blushes. 'A month.'

'For what? Ok, _now_ I _know_ there is some huge reason for this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be going through all the trouble.'

He nods. 'You are right.' Then he tugs on my sleeve again.

He wants to dance?

My inner commentary doesn't respond.

I look back up at him. 'What are—'

And then he does something that nearly makes me faint.

He presses his lips to mine.

_His kissing you! Kiss back!_

I move my lips rhythmically against his. Suddenly he combs his hand through my hair with one hand, and the other holds tugs me closer. Suddenly, he starts going fast and I nearly bite off his tongue as he catches me unawares.

_Breathe, Hermione! Breathe when he does!_

He inhales and so do I.

_Merlin's holey knickers! You are snogging Severus Snape! I thought you were dead-set against kissing on the first date; this isn't even a date!_

I groan but not because of the kissing.

_Whoa, he's not bad at this. And—Hermione! Move your ruddy tongue! Don't just leave it there like a wet rag!_

I do so and he suddenly changes his pace, only tickling the tip of my tongue.

_Oh, no one's done_ that _before. What the hell are we supposed to do now? Wait, we've read something about this. What is the name of that book? Lovely book…_ Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging. _There it is. Yes, that bloke… Mark, was it? Just play back and then… I don't remember! Shame, since that book was very good. We must get the latest edition in the series._

You are _not_ doing this now! I might not know much about this but I am pretty certain it's not good when your mind wanders during kissing.

Suddenly, Snape pulls away but unfortunately, I am still kissing when he does. To my utter mortification, he laughs at that.

I glare at him, trying desperately to will away my flushing.

He still holds me close and stares into my eyes. My IC offers one word to describe _his_ eyes.

_Stormy_.

Whoa.

His voice comes out husky—husky! For me!—as he says, 'I have been waiting to do that for a while.'

'Really.' My head is spinning.

_Oh, don't do that! This is all too cliché!_

He nods and rests his forehead against mine, his nose pressing along the length of mine. 'Yeah.'

Wishing upon everything that my breath does not smell too bad, and it probably does since I had an onion-covered scone at that café, I try not to breathe out too much as I ask, 'Why?' Because I honestly cannot fathom the explanation.

He pulls back and gives me the look he gives all dunderheads. 'Because. I like you. A lot.'

'No, you don't.'

He rolls his eyes. 'Yes. I. Do. I am sorry if I have at all made you uncomfortable or stepped out of line.' He curses under his breath. 'In fact, I probably did. I am sorry, Hermione—Miss Granger.'

My mind doesn't seem to be working at it's normal pace. 'You fancy me? You went through all that just to get to dance with me?'

He nods sheepishly.

'Why didn't you just _ask_ to be my partner?'

'I didn't want to get turned down.'

'So, you made a bet to force me to?'

He studies his feet. 'Yeah, it was a dodgy thing to do.'

Dodgy? 'Dodgy? Severus Snape, that was brilliant!'

His head snaps up and then I do something that shocks both of us. I kiss him.

I feel myself pull away. 'Severus, had you actually taken me to your quarters to seduce me as you said, you wouldn't have had to work too hard,' my inner commentary tells him. And this time, I don't stop her.

* * *

A/N: WOO! There it is. Out of my system. Hope you liked the bits of plot-twists in there.

Oh, and the bit where Hermione's IC is jabbering during her kissing Snape (and nearly biting off his tongue) is sadly a paraphrased transcript of one of my kisses. And _Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging_ was in there as well.

Sad, I know.

Well, hopefully you lot liked it and if not (and if you did as well) let me know!

And the updates for the others will happen shortly. Also, I have a new one-shot I am working on that is SSHG. (Yes, another plot bunny was born a few days ago)


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